Losing Match Thread

[Guest Goodear]

Perhaps having Janus kick the piss out of me all match long wasn't a good idea. By the end I was all... shit, there's NO WAY I can have Coy hit any of his moves now! So I went to a flash pin and ... well I think it might have sucked. I think my boy will work a bit better against a heel honestly. WE SHALL SEEEEEEEE!

 

Ow I'm blind.

 

--------------------------------------

Funyon stands tall in the middle of the ring as the crowd begins to buzz at the prospect of this hot night of action getting underway. After waiting in line, passing through security and reminding all the teenage girls that Jeff Hardy does not work for this company, it is simply time for the battles to begin.

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen… Welcome to the LOCKDOWN! This first fall is scheduled for one fall with a twenty-minute time limit and is to be contested under HARDCORE RULES for the SWF Hardcore Gamers Championship! Introducing first, the challenger!”

 

“Oh hell,” moans Bobby Riley as the sound of patented generic banjo chase music starts to play throughout the arena. “I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to see this idiot right away after that embarrassing introduction last week.”

 

“Well too bad Citizen Riley… It’s time for Coy West to make his debut!”

 

And indeed he does. Walking out through the crowd, ‘The Coyote’ looks out to the Arkansas crowd with an apprehensive stare. Looking as though he recently found out that there was no Santa Claus, Coy slowly makes his way through the murmuring crowd, who have yet to make up their minds about the unsophisticated Southerner. Hopping up to the apron and into the ring, it is quite obvious that the newcomer to the SWF is nearly sweated through with perspiration.

 

“Boy, you can really tell that this guy is really nervous,” mentions The Cyclone Comet. “Of course, making your debut against Terrance Bailey in a hardcore match sure as hell is not what I would consider a walk in the park.”

 

“He better get ready though,” moans Riley. “He better want to eat pressure for breakfast. There are no free rides in the SWF. Every match and every challenge is a huge one.”

 

Funyon calls into his microphone, “Weighing in tonight at 240 pounds and hailing from… the S. S. General Lee Jr.? Making his SWF debut… this is ‘THE COYOTE’ COY WESSSSSSSSSSST!”

 

Putting a hand up to his shoulder, Coy gives a tiny wave to the people of Little Rock that seems to do nothing to relieve his tensions regarding this upcoming contest. Wiping a hand across his brow, Coy’s eyes continue to bulge at the thought of conflict. But conflict is only a few moments away… and this is his song.

 

I stand firm in my solidarity...

The path I walk...

(The path I walk)...

I walk in with my own resolve...

 

With dimmed lights and the flickering words that bring out Terrence’s vital statistics, the crowd is treated to the sounds of Killswitch Engage. Passing through the entranceway with his white trench coat pulled tightly around his shoulders, the man known as Janus walks through the crowd with obviously about fifty times as much confidence than his opponent. Smiling as brightly as a 7 foot Australian can, Terrance makes his way down to the ring as his theme continues to play him down to ringside.

 

When darkness falls...

(When darkness falls)...

We are reborn...

A dream since the fall of man...

We are reborn...

 

“And his opponent,” calls out Funyon, “Hailing from Sydney, Australia and weighing in at 320 pounds. He is the reigning SWF Hardcore Gamers Champion…. Terrence Bailey… AKA JANUSSSSSSSSSSSS!”

 

Stopping just outside of the ring, Janus allows a calm smile to cross his lips as he pulls off his trench coat and casually sets it in a neat bundle on the ringside steps. Giving all of Little Rock a thumb’s up, Janus rolls underneath the bottom rope and into the ring. Folding his arms as he rises to his 7’2’’ worth of height, Terrence looks at Coy as though he doesn’t quite understand just what the challenger is worried about. He will not have long to wait…

 

“Hold on their boy…” begins the clearly panicked redneck warrior. Bailey merely looks at Coy with a raised eyebrow, clearly unsure if he should take offense at the familiar terms that this stranger is already using with him. “Now gulp I know I signed on for a whole lot of stuff when I joined this here wrassling place. But ONE thing I did not sign up for is some sort of kinky sex thing!”

 

“What is he talking about?” calls Bobby Riley.

 

“I have no idea,” murmurs The Comet. “And what is this thing they call sex, Citizen Riley? Superheroes know nothing of it.”

 

Coy continues, “Now, I have seen a whole lot of hardcore films in my day. But I am a MARRIED MAN! And while you might be the best hardcore wrassler in this place, that don’t mean I want anything to do with it! Besides, look at you, you’d split me in TWAIN!”

 

Shaking his head with a smile on his face as half the crowd joins in the giggle, Janus puts his hands up and mouths that it isn’t going to be that way. Stepping in the path of the two wrestlers walks the referee Matthew Kivell who starts to explain to the retard just what is going on. Finally understanding just what the heck is going on, Coy starts to laugh at his own idiocy as all three men share a chuckle. Finally reaching out to the referee, West shakes the official’s hand before reaching out to Terrence to do the same. Still somewhat shaking from the laughter, Terry accepts the handshake with almost no hesitation and shares a little smile with the new comer to the SWF. Almost casually though, Janus mentions to Coy that he still has to try to kick his ass. Coy smiles and nods as referee looks at both men for a moment and signals for the bell.

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

Sauntering over to the center of the ring, Coy meets the now stoic Janus with a shot across the mouth with a right hand. Lifting an eyebrow in response, the huge warrior simply stands there as Coy tosses another punch into the face of the Hardcore Champion. Once again unmoving at the blow, Bailey almost shrugs at Coy who seems to be less sure of this than he did about the prospect of an anal rampage. Finally though his questions are answered as Terrence simply shoves his nappy body to the canvas with a scary sort of pre-natural power. Rolling right up to his feet with his hackles raised, Coy bounces right back into the chest of the Anti-Heel machine only then realizing that it might not have been the wisest course of action. Slamming a knee into his challenger’s chest, Bailey manages to raise West right off his feet and to the canvas with a stunning amount of power.

 

“Perhaps Coy won’t be so dismissive of alternative lifestyle choices in the future,” mumbles Bobby Riley as everyone pretty much has figured out what he’s talking about.

 

Collapsing to the canvas like a mackerel, Coy gasps for air as Bailey moves after him in a slow and deliberate manner perhaps better suited for a Terminator unit. Grabbing the coughing West by the back of the mullet, Janus just casually lifts the challenger up to his feet and shoves him across the ring with a whip. Taking a swipe with a clothesline though does not find the mark as Coy has enough mind about his matter to duck underneath the blow an come bouncing back with a high cross body.

 

Whoops.

 

Catching Coy across his huge chest, Terrence dips down to a knee and impales his challenger with a huge rib breaker that causes West to be bent far more than he would ever want to go. But the torture does not last for long before Janus once again lifts Coy up high to his chest and jams him down onto his knee. Allowing the struggling Coy his freedom, Bailey simply rises up to his feet as his opponent struggles to crawl away and find some sort of respite. Although he wouldn’t know that word, Coy would probably just call it running. But even such a rudimentary strategy is not enough to save Coy West as Janus simply follows the rolling Coy and grabs him by the back of the blue jeans. Lifting Coy right off the mat and standing him up, Janus tosses a forearm into the small of his opponent’s back and causes the challenger to drop to his knees right in the center of the ring.

 

“Well I cannot believe that this is what Citizen Coy thought was going to happen in this contest,” begins The Cyclone Comet. “But he will grow to understand, if he survives this, that everyone in the SWF is just as driven as Terrence Bailey to be the best that they can be. There are no weak sisters in this arena. Other than you Bobby.”

 

“Hey!”

 

Slowly walking into the ropes, Terrence gets a mild rebound before kicking the downed West in the chest and knocking him over onto his back. Reaching out in a plea for mercy, Coy soon finds Janus in control of his wrist. Using that hold, the mammoth Anti-Heel machine pulls Coy up to his feet with ease before slamming him across the ring with an Irish whip. Staggered from the blow, Coy nearly retches from the pain as Janus looks on with almost a sad glance. But a man has to do what a man has to do and the Hardcore champion rambles into the turnbuckle for an avalanche.

 

SMACK!

 

And runs into an elbow!

 

Shooting his arm out as hard as he can, Coy knocks the big man down for the first time in the match with a hard shot right underneath the jaw. But even as West shakes his head in an attempt to get his wits together, the huge champion is already moving his way up to his feet. But West moves out of the corner just as fast and grabs Bailey by the back of the head and jams him into the canvas with a bulldog headlock. But even as Janus’ face is crushed against the canvas, West is already making his way up to his feet in order to come up with something else that will help him survive this battle. And all he can come up with at the moment is resting around the waist of one Matthew Kivell. Grabbing the referee by the head, West quickly works to unhook the referee’s belt…

 

“I thought West didn’t want to have any sweet, sweet man love?”

 

And pulls it loose to use as a weapon.

 

“Damn.”

 

Quickly sneaking behind the already on his knees Hardcore Champion, West wraps the leather strap around the throat of his foe and tries to ring his neck much to the semi-confusion of the crowd. After all they all like Bailey, but this is a hardcore match. But all of those feelings don’t seem to matter to West as he holds on for all he has around the windpipe of the huge monster of a man. But the air does not go out of Janus fast enough to put him out of this match for long. Turning into ‘The Coyote’ Terrence grabs the challenger around the waist and pulls him high into the air before depositing him on the canvas with a huge side suplex that frees Janus and once again puts Coy West on the defensive.

 

“You know Comet, this match doesn’t even really matter all that much.”

 

“What makes you say that Citizen Riley?”

 

“Because sooner or later the REAL Hardcore Champion John Duran is going to claim what is rightly his. The fact that he isn’t doing it right this second goes to show that Mark Stevens is the most biased commissioner in the history of this sport.”

 

 

But this match is not about John Duran, it is about a very beaten Coy West and VERY pissed off Terrence Bailey. Gathering himself up and pulling the leather strap from around his neck, Janus turns over to the crawling Coy West and straps him hard across the spine!

 

SNAP!

 

SNAP!

 

SNAP!

 

Raising several red welts on Coy’s back, Terrence sends his foe scrambling into the ropes. Holding onto the bottom strand as though it will bring him some sort of freedom, Coy tries to cover up as best he can as his huge opponent tries to come up with something with a bit more punch. Tossing the belt out of the ring, Janus once again collects the beaten down ‘Coyote’ and slings him into the ropes. Lifting a huge boot into the face of his opponent, Bailey absolutely knocks the crap out of the challenger and once again sends him flying into the ropes for what the inexperienced grappler must think is safety for some unearthly reason.

 

“Citizen West better figure out sooner or later that the ropes are not going to do him any good in this contest. Even if Citizen Two Face locks in a submission maneuver, the ropes will be not be enough to get ‘The Coyote’ free.”

 

But for the moment, that is enough to give Coy a moment of rest as Janus steps over the top rope and goes to the floor. Shooing the timekeeper out of his seat, Bailey grabs a hold of the metal weapon and folds it up into a more effective shape. Tossing the folding chair into the ring, Terrence steps back over the top rope and into the squared circle. Immediately regaining control of the chair, the hardcore champion sets his sights on finishing this thing once and for all in the most merciful manner possible. Cocking back with the chair, Janus looks on with serious eyes as the challenger waddles his way up to his feet. Finally looking at the champion, Coy finally sees a whole face full of metal as Terrence makes like the movie Signs and swings away!

 

WHOOOOOSH!

 

Ducking to one side, Coy nimbly gets out of the way of the deadly blow and manages to dive at Janus’ tree trunk legs! Pulling Terrence backward to the mat, West tries to hold on with a schoolboy as Kivell dives into position for…

 

ONE!

 

TWO!

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

More shocked than hurt, Bailey easily muscles the wet rat of a man off and to the canvas. Climbing up to his feet with the chair still in hand, Janus looks to part Coy’s head once again only to find that the challenger has already rolled out of the ring to the safety to the ringside area. Trying to create some sort of distance, West grabs a hold of the guard rail and uses it to stand erect as well as he can. But that does not last for long as West catches a glimpse of a flying monster!

 

CLANG!

 

“Citizen Two Face went for a flying chair shot off the apron but came up empty!”

 

With Coy diving out of harms way, he leaves Janus to make metal-to-metal contact with the steel of the chair meeting the rail. Sending a shock wave down the length of the chair, the impact knocks the folded weapon loose from the normally iron grip of the SWF Hardcore Champion. Shaking his own hands from the temporary pain of the situation, Janus wanders away from West in almost a instinctive manner rather than trying to get away, although the results are the same. Gathering himself up for a charge, West goes sprinting right across the ring at the towering Hardcore Champion. Leaping into the air, Coy smashes Janus with all of his 240 pounds in the form of a flying lariat. Knocked flat on his back, Bailey immediately attempts to shake loose the stunning effect of the clothesline as West crawls off him and moves to retrieve the metal chair. Holding the weapon over his head for a moment, Coy looks at the rising Bailey with the look of a pack of dogs at a three-legged cat. Cocking the chair at the ready, West eyes up his prey while also putting a hand on his back. Finally with Bailey on his feet, Coy rushes ahead with the chair at the ready!

 

CRACK!

 

AND IT GETS KNUCKLE BOMBED INTO HIS FACE!

 

Ringing out with his patented punch, Janus blasts the steel right back into the head of his assailant. And while Bailey waves his hand in order to get the feeling back in his digits, West drops the chair and almost casually drops right on his face on the cold arena floor.

 

“THIS IS OVER! There is no way that Coy West is going to get up after that one.”

 

Janus has the exact same thought, as he slowly drops down to a knee after making sure no significant damage had been down to his hand. Flipping the challenger over to his back, Janus places a lateral press down on the floor as Kivell slaps the concrete for…

 

 

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

THREEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOO! COY KICKS OUT!

 

Showing more guts than brains, which he doesn’t have, Coy West manages to fight his way out from under the 300 plus pounds of the huge Anti-Heel Machine. Looking at the referee with a bit of surprise, Janus shakes his head and leaves the challenger where he lies on the cold concrete floor. Moving to another side of the ring, Terrence flips over the skirting of the ring and finds just what he was looking for. It was big and long and made of wood.

 

“HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

 

It’s just a table Riley.

 

“This whole match has been a disappointment.”

 

“WE WANT TABLES! WE WANT TABLES!” chants the throng of Arkansas elite as Bailey slides the wooded structure underneath the bottom rope and into the ring.

 

“It looks like the crowds are getting just what they want. There is no bait and switching here in the SWF!” rails The Cyclone Comet.

 

Catching a glimpse of the semi-comatose Coy West already climbing into the ring, Janus has nothing else to do other than get into the confines of the squared circle and join his opponent there. But rather than attack Coy immediately, Janus pulls the legs out of the table and picks it up and off the canvas. Then holding the table vertical to the canvas, Terrence jams the wooden surface into the buckle so that it creates and obvious surface for more punishment. Moving back over to the challenger, Terrence delivers a punting kick into the midsection of his foe before moving him over to the corner opposite of the standing table. Then cinching up on ‘The Coyote’, Bailey tosses the 240-pounder across the ring and right at the table!

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

 

Cracking into the table with the small of his back, Coy West tumbles to the canvas once again with the pain of this match obviously wearing him down immensely. But still the table stands strong in the corner, standing there as a sick testament to the pain that it has already caused the rampaging redneck. But will any more pain be in store for the leader of the R-Volution? That may be ultimately up to him as Bailey once again sets his heavy frame across Coy for another pinning combination.

 

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

“I have to tell you this Comet, Coy West really is showing me something here tonight?”

 

“Guts and determination in the face of unbelievable odds?”

 

“No…”

 

“What then…”

 

“The worst haircut I think I have ever seen! It looks like a muskrat dies on his head and I don’t even know what a muskrat LOOKS LIKE!”

 

As he kicks out though, West has seemingly no interest in taking fashion tips from anyone. Rather all of his attention is poised entirely on keeping the remnants of his lower lumbar region together. Obviously, Janus has done a hell of a job to destroy every throw in the arsenal of his opponent but he has also set this entire path of rage in motion for the eventual victory using any one of his high impact destructive maneuvers. And it appears as though Bailey is going to go for one of those maneuvers right this moment. Grabbing Coy around the waist, Terrence hoists the lanky grappler up and onto Bailey’s shoulder in preparation for his variation of the ‘Spinal Divide’ backbreaker. But as Coy is brought up, he begins to toss punches right into the mush of the Hardcore Champion! Again and again, Coy strike with his right hand knocking Janus back a step or two before finally dropping out of the monster’s grip and landing behind him on his feet!

 

“He’s not dead yet!”

 

Punching away with all he has, Coy rocks Janus back on his heels as the Hardcore Champion attempts to absorb the blows. And as West continues to chuck right hand after right hand, Bailey simply rocks back and forth without dropping down to the canvas. But with Bailey’s eyes crossed for a moment, West tries to get as much off his next blow as he can by bouncing off the ropes…

 

WHOMP!

 

And walks right into a boot to the face!

 

Shaking his head one side and then to the other, Janus shakes off the momentary problems with his vision. Looking across the ring at the obviously more stunned Coy West, just barely picking himself off the canvas near the corner where the table is still propped up in the corner, Janus hatches what he believes will be the final plan of attack for the contest.

 

 

Ducking low into a stance, Bailey EXPLODES ACROSS THE RING!

 

 

AND EXPLODES THROUGH THE TABLE!

 

 

 

 

 

TOO BAD COY WASN’T THERE.

 

 

“Citizen Two Face just killed himself! He was trying to tackle West through the table but ended up crushing his own face against the wood!”

 

“That gore would have broken that Redneck in half,” supplies Riley. “But he got out of the path and Terry just axed himself in the face… and he doesn’t look happy about it.”

 

Evidently more angry than hurt from the move, Janus rises again as West just barely pulls himself up by the ropes on the other side of the ring. Almost roaring from the pain and virtual embarrassment of plowing through the table, Janus stomps down on what is left of the wood before turning his red gaze back at the staggered ‘Coyote’. Once again breaking into a charge, Janus sprints across the ring and…

 

POP!

 

“SUPERRRRRRRRRRRRRKICK! JANUS RAN INTO A SUPERKICK!”

 

Falling backward to the mat, Bailey barely feels it as West jackknifes his legs over his body in the hopes of pulling out a flash pin!

 

ONNNNNNNNNNNNNE!

 

 

“FEET ON THE ROPES!”

 

 

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

“HARDCORE RULES! HARDCORE RULLLLLLLLLLLLLES!”

 

 

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

 

“It’s OVAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“What an upset! What an upset!”

 

Almost instantly getting his wits back about him, Bailey pushes his legs out and shoves West off. With a hand on his jaw, the now former Hardcore Champion looks down at the still downed winner of this contest as Coy West lies against the ropes in obvious pain.

 

Funyon’s voice rolls through the crowd, “The winner of this match in 8:12 and NEW SWF Hardcore Gamers Champion… ‘THE COYOTE’ COOOOOOOOOY WEST!”

 

Matthew Kivell hands the title belt over to its new owner as the crowd looks on in shock, stunned that the mighty Anti-Heel Machine was unable to come out of this match the winner. Obviously, West threw all he had into that one last maneuver and managed to catch the champion just right underneath the jaw in order to keep the big man down. Quite frankly, with the stress already placed on his back by the hardships of the contest, there really wasn’t much else that the challenger could do in such a situation. And with no rules in the match up, placing the feet on the ropes was more an act of survival than one of malicious intent. Perhaps sensing this as well, Terrence Bailey pulls the reigns back in on his anger and makes no further moves to battle with the new Hardcore Champion.

 

“Terrence really did let his temper get the best of him during that match and Coy had the instincts to take advantage of it,” wraps up The Cyclone Comet. “Hopefully the Anti-Heel Machine will store that in his memory banks and always look back at this match as the time he let a little lapse cost him big time. But we have no time to reflect ourselves fans… we’ve got more action to come. GET READY!"

[Rawknight 0]

Comet: And now citizens, the match you’ve all been waiting for. A brawl for all the ages. The Angry African American and the Maori Badass will lock horns, trade blows and generally beat the living bejeezus out of each other.

 

Riley: I can’t wait, Comet. This is going to be brutal. This is going to be nasty. This is going to be as scientific as a house brick to the face! I love it!

 

Comet: Lets show you what happened when Va’aiga faced a man just like the Thugg… in what some considered an upset but some in the know predicted – Va’aiga beating the big man in the name of his brother – the man he faces tonight.

 

The picture cuts to a screen highlighted with a “SWF Flashback” border as… to the shock of everyone, like a corpse in a Romero flick Bastion slowly stands, getting first to one knee, then slowly up to a vertical base… only to be met by the hand of Va’aiga wrapped around his throat. Va’aiga clutches on tight and calls out…

 

Va’aiga: FO’ THA THUGG!

 

Comet: What can the Maori do to beat this monster Bastion?

 

Va’aiga takes a step forward for more leverage and places Bastion’s arm over his shoulder. The Maori Badass lifts up Bastion using the last ounces of strength in his body and turns, spinning Bastion round and then driving him down to the mat, back first onto the steel chair again!

 

Comet: UNTAMED! UNTAMED!

 

Va’aiga hooks a leg…

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!

 

Comet: AND VA’AIGA WINS! Va’aiga wins with Bastion’s brother’s move! And wouldn’t Thugg, lying in his hospital bed right now LOVE to be the one doing that to the psychotic Bastion?

 

The picture cuts back to the arena as the lights in the arena black out, covering all crevices of the place with a cloud of complete and utter darkness.

 

“MUWHAHAHAHA!”

 

An electric guitar blares of the speakers, starting the introduction to DMX’s “Who We Be”, as the entire arena explodes into a frenzy of cheers. The fans leap from their seats and make as much noise as humanly possible, despite the fact that no human form has been seen on the stage as of yet.

 

"They don't know..."

"Who we be."

 

"They don't know..."

"Who we be."

 

“What they don’t know is…”

 

BOOM!

 

A huge explosion on the stage leaves a wall of fire across the stage in its wake, leaving only a small path in the center, as the fans lose their minds and the first verse of the song begins. In the path left by the wall of fire, a dark figure creeps forward, a black towel over his head (like Tazz), and as the figure makes his way to the part of the path where the fire is on both sides of him, Funyon makes his announcement.

 

Funyon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for ONE fall. Introducing first, from the Nation’s Capital… weighing in tonight at 389lbs, this is AAAAITCH VEEEEEEEE TEEEEEE

 

HVT! HVT! HVT! HVT!

 

Upon hearing the announcement, HVT begins his slow descent to the ring, removing the towel from his head on his way down the ramp. The fire on the stage ceases as HVT reaches the apron, where he holds onto the top rope and uses it to pull himself up to the apron. He, then, proceeds to step over the top rope and into the ring. HVT stays focused on the match and stolidly ignores the fans chanting his initials.

 

Riley: The Thugg really seems to have the crowd on his side tonight, Comet.

 

Comet: Well in a choice between the Thugg and the Maori, seems the crowd are going with the angry African American.

 

The arena drops to darkness again, as Va'aiga's shadow appears in the entranceway, and Va'aiga appears in shadow, wearing a hooded black boxer's robe, with silver trim and the silver fern of New Zealand on the back. As Va'aiga's music starts with the quote "WHAT'S MY NAME?!" the bassline of "Bring The Pain" by Method Man fires up, but instead of the usual lyrics of Method Man, the ancient New Zealand war chant - the "Haka Te Ra" plays over the top.

 

Ka mate, Ka mate! Ka ora, Ka ora!

Ka mate, Ka mate! Ka ora, Ka ora!

Tenei te tangata puhuruhuru

Nana i tiki mai whakawhiti te ra!

A hupane, kaupane

A hupane, kaupane whiti te ra!

Hi!

 

Funyon: And his opponent, from Rotorua on the North Island of Aotearoa… weighing in tonight at 310lbs, the Maori Badass himself… VAAAAAAAA’AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIGAAAAAAAAAA TUUUUUUUUUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPOLOHHHHHHHHHTOOOOO

 

Red strobe lights pierce the darkness of the entrance ramp as Va'aiga begins his slow walk to the ring, throwing a few phantom jabs on the way. The Smarktron shows images of the Maoris performing their traditional war dance, cut with some of his biggest in ring hits - Hitting the Va'aiga Stinger on Dace Night, Maori Dropping Jay Dawg onto a flaming section of canvas, shouting right in Bastion's face, destroying Dace Night and Danny Williams with a chair, flipping Quiz like a pancake with the Lariat, beating the crap out of a kneeling CIA with unprotected chairshots, holding up both the Tag and Hardcore Gamers belts after the tag title win, Maori Dropping Ejiro as time expires at Genesis IV... Inside the ring Va'aiga throws off his robe and leans over the ropes, looking out into the crowd and screaming the final Hi! of the Haka (with his tongue hanging out in true Maori style.)

 

DINGDINGDING

 

Comet: The bell rings and in this main event match, we’re underway.

 

HVT and Va’aiga walk to the center of the ring, referee Anthony Michael Hall looking on, watching both men carefully. The Thugg swings a right hand, looking to connect with the Maori’s skull, but Va’aiga raises a hand and swats the blow away with a confident block. Thugg throws a left, right combination and Va’aiga is forced backwards a pace or two, covering up. Diving in a little, HVT fires fof a punch towards the Maori’s ribs, but Va’aiga counterpunches and staggers HVT back with a left that connects. Both men back off and circle.

 

Riley: This isn’t supposed to be a boxing match.

 

Comet: With two big guys in the ring, both of whom cause a lot more damage with slams and suplexes than punches, I don’t think that this will stay in a contest of strikes for too long.

 

Feigning a left cross, the Maori Badass dives in and shoots for HVT. Grabbing a waistlock and planting his feet for leverage Va’aiga manages to drive HVT backwards hard enough to turn the Thugg and send him off towards the ropes. Va’aiga lays flat as Thugg bounces off the ring ropes and heads across the ring, but as Thugg rebounds again, Va’aiga stands and shapes for a shoulderblock. The pair collide with a shot that sounds around the arena, but neither man moves an inch.

 

Comet: That HVT is harder to shift than 99 kinds of stains.

 

Riley: Many people facing Thugg end up with 99 kinds of stains.

 

Thugg swings a clothesline wildly at Va’aiga, but the loose and overthrown move is easily ducked and the Maori Badass allows Thugg to turn through 180 degrees, setting him up for a back Suplex! Va’aiga leans backwards, but Thugg fights off the move with a quick downwards back elbow. Va’aiga is broken loose, but the Maori responds with a big shove, powering Thugg away and into the ropes again. Storming back off the ropes Thugg looks to drive his shoulder into the face of the Maori Badass, but Va’aiga heads off towards Thugg at a pace and dives, taking HVT down with a massive running tackle!!

 

Comet: And The Thugg goes down!!

 

 

Riley: Wow. Not many men can take HVT off his feet like that.

 

Comet: Va’aiga is no mere citizen. If he fought again for the side of right, he’d be an amazing force.

 

Va’aiga drops backwards to the mat, picking a heel of his 7 foot plus opponent. Va’aiga rolls over, grabbing a solid hold of Thugg’s ankle, turning the big man onto his back. Having the Thugg turned, Va’aiga rolls up to a sitting position, keeping firm hold of HVT’s leg and holding it in a half crab!

 

Comet: Va’aiga with the half crab! Va’aiga is having to resort to WESTLING against the Thugg

 

Riley: I guess that match against Tom Flesher last week has rubbed off on him.

 

Comet: Or he’s realized you can’t use the out power and out muscle game against the H-V-T.

 

Cranking back on the unnaturally bent leg of the man originally from HVille, Va’aiga grimaces and twists, trying to apply as much damn pressure as he can on his victim. Turning his body round so more of it is over the Thugg; Va’aiga reaches a boot across and extending his own leg out to the fullest, Va’aiga steps FIRMLY on the braided head of the HVT.

 

Riley: Va’aiga looks like he’s trying to rip off the head at the same time he tears free the leg!

 

Comet: Well remember this move also affects the back, and that’s the impact point for the Maori Drop.

 

Riley: You think Va’aiga can Maori Drop HVT?

 

Comet: I think he’s insane enough to try.

 

In pain and trapped by the hold, HVT stretches out his freer arm and reaches for the ropes, taken down near enough them for this to be worth a chance. Va’aiga stresses and strains and Thugg JUST reaches the ropes and forces a break, Va’aiga earning a round of boos for taking a full 4 count off Anthony Michael Hall before breaking. Va’aiga stands and Thugg backs off towards the center of the ring, clutching his back a little.

 

Comet: HVT looking stunned by that, if not that hurt.

 

Riley: HVT has an amazing pain threshold, but Va’aiga can take more punishment than any man I’ve ever seen.

 

Comet: Conversely Thugg can deal it out like no one else.

 

Riley: That’s true as well.

 

Thugg and Va’aiga approach carefully and lock up, Thugg using his height to power quickly to a headlock. Thugg throws one of Va’aiga’s arm across his mighty back and with an almighty heave, suplexes the big Maori over. Thugg covers and Hall drops to count.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

T…

 

Comet: Nowhere NEAR even a two count.

 

Riley: The Maori Badass takes more than a Suplex to go down, even a thunderous Suplex like that.

 

Thugg looks down disdainfully as he stands and stomps at Va’aiga a couple of times, forcing the Maori to roll away and stand. The pair approach again and as Thugg offers a second lock up, Va’aiga goes low, taking a waistlock. Thugg tries to wiggle free but the Maori goes with the motion and moves to a side waistlock, sliding a hand under Thugg’s leg and hitting a massive EXPLODER SUPLEX! Va’aiga bridges!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

T.. and Thugg kicks out as the crowd roars in amazement at Va’aiga’s ability to throw the HVT.

 

Comet: Early kick out by Thugg this time.

 

Riley: These two behemoths are throwing each other around like Godzilla and Mothra.

 

Comet: G0R0 IZ BEINGZ MORE CHARISMATIC THAN MOTHRA.

 

Riley: Thank you.

 

Va’aiga and Thugg stand off and circle again, Thugg firing off a left body shot first, grazing the chest of the Maori Badass. Va’aiga rushes and fires off a left, left, right sequence and Thugg’s head rocks back with each blow. Thugg smiles and fires off a right of his own and the massive Maori staggers back a half pace. Turning his head backwards slowly towards his opponent, the Maori cracks a smile too. The pairs smiles turn to bitter grimaces as each tries to psyche the other out, but as Thugg fires off another jab to the tattooed face of the Maori Badass, Va’aiga weaves round the blow, winding back his neck before dropping Thugg to the amat with a HUGE head BUTT!!!

 

Riley: The Maori Badass using his head there!

 

Comet: Va’aiga’s forehead is a weapon to be feared, that’s for sure.

 

Va’aiga stomps away at the ribcage of his monsterous opponent before dropping down to the mat, driving his elbow into the rib area of the Thugg. Va’aiga stands and aims a swift kick into Thugg’s side, making him roll over and stand, and the Maori stands by and cranks his neck threateningly.

 

Comet: It’s all been very even so far.

 

Riley: Like you expected anything else?

 

Comet: Not really, no.

 

Va’aiga and Thugg approach again, neither wanting to leave an opening, and as Va’aiga offers a hand for a knuckle lock, Thugg makes a grab for it and whips Va’aiga into the ropes. Thugg swings a clothesline at Va’aiga but the Maori goes low and ducks. Thugg spins with the move and charges after the Maori, but Va’aiga steadies himself on the ropes and as HVT approaches he gets backdropped onto the ring apron!. Thugg wobbles as Va’aiga fries off a left cross, keeping the big man off balance. A second left cross staggers the Thugg further, his tree like legs all over the place on the precarious footing of the apron. A third and Thugg has to grap hold of the top rope to steady himself. Thugg nearly has himself ready to go back in the ring as Va’aiga KISSES THE FIST AND BLASTS THUGG DOWN TO THE MATTING BELOW WITH A RIGHT HOOK!

 

Va’aiga: BOO-YAH!

 

Riley: Ladies and gentlemen. We have boo-yah!

 

The Maori Badass slides out under the bottom rope and stomps on the downed Thugg again. Thugg mutters under his breath as he slowly gets to his feet, only to have his arm wrenched by the Maori, whipping HVT into the ring steps which buckle and separate under the near 400lb weight of the Thugg. Va’aiga squats and gives that old “stalking” pose towards the seated HVT.

 

Comet: The rugby playing background of Va’aiga about to show through again.

 

Riley: That man throws a mean tackle, and he can kick someone pretty damn hard too, especially off a four step run up.

 

As Thugg sits against the rubble of the ring steps, Va’aiga rushes in, his face screwed up into a twisted picture of hatred and anger as he hurtles shoulder first at the HVT. Va’aiga leaps… just as Thugg rolls to a side and Va’aiga goes bowling trough the ring steps, sending the pieces every which way. Va’aiga rolls onto his back and grasps his shoulder as Thugg lumbers his way over.

 

Riley: Ouch! I felt that from here Comet!

 

Comet: Va’aiga should leave flying to the superheroes!

 

Picking Va’aiga up with ease, HVT goes for the simple but effective tactic of whipping the Maori into the guardrail. Anthony Michael Hall counts “One!” as Thugg drives his shoulder into the ribs of the Maori, sandwiching Va’aiga against the rail. “Two!” brings a side headlock and a stiff DDT onto the protective mats. “Three!” “Four!” “Five!” Thugg grabs the Maori Badass and slings him back into the ring, rolling in after him and laying back into a pinning position…

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

TH… and Va’aiga kicks out.

 

Comet: A close call again for the Maori.

 

Riley: Everything Thugg does is just with suck force, such power, he can pin you with ANYTHING.

 

Thugg picks Va’aiga up and drags him towards one of the corners, throwing Va’aiga into the buckles back first by the god damn throat! Thugg backs off a few steps and then charges in, splashing Va’aiga and sandwiches him against the ring post. Va’aiga staggers out of the corner and Thugg catches the Maori and powers him over with a TREMENDOUS wheel powerslam! Thugg holds on and referee Hall drops to count…

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH.. and Va’aiga lifts a shoulder. Thugg stands, leaving Va’aiga on the canvas and curses to himself.

 

After firing a few stomps down at the Maori lying on the mat below him, HVT picks the Maori up and grabs for a side headlock straight away. Thugg twists on Va’aiga’s head a little, heightening the discomfort the Maori is in. Thugg jacks the Maori up with a Suplex and just… holds… him… there.

 

Comet: Amazing strength shown there by the HVT. It takes some power to hold the Maori Badass there upside down in mid Suplex.

 

Riley: All the blood rushing to the Maori’s head. Given its density it’s a wonder he doesn’t topple over.

 

Holding Va’aiga up for maybe five or ten seconds before falling backwards, Thugg completes the Extreme Vertical Suplex. Thugg instinctively rolls over to a pin cover…

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

TH.. and Va’aiga kicks out.

 

Comet: Thugg piling on the pressure slowly here.

 

Riley: Thugg does most things slowly, Comet

 

Falling vertically downwards, Thugg drops a big heavy elbow into the chest of the Maori. Thugg drags Va’aiga up to his feet and grabs an arm, whipping the Maori Badass towards him and near decapitating the Maori with a short arm clothesline. Thugg doesn’t miss the chance to drop another heavy elbow drop, and covers again, making Anthony Michael Hall drop to count again…

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

TH.. and Va’aiga lifts a shoulder.

 

Annoyed, Thugg pushes the ref away as he stands, protesting that he got a three count. Thugg lets Va’aiga stand again, firing off more body blows to slow the Maori down to his pace. Thugg again whips the Maori, and as Va’aiga heads back towards ring center, Thugg lifts his massive boot and drops Va’aiga to the mat. Thugg bounces against an adjacent set of ropes and drops a crushing muscular leg across Va’aiga’s chest. Thugg drops to cover again…

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

TH.. and Va’aiga kicks out again. Thugg curses more loudly.

 

Comet: Thugg is getting frustrated, but there’s really no need for language like that.

 

Riley: Even if you’re a big angry African American?

 

Comet: Even if you’re a big angry African American.

 

Picking Va’aiga up from the ground by his sides, Thugg shakes the Maori and adjusts himself to get his body into position. Thugg spins a little as he sits down, driving the Maori Badass back first into the canvas with a vicious side slam.

 

Comet: SIDEWALK SLAM! SIDEWALK SLAM!

 

Lying on the mat, Va’aiga is jolted out of clutching his back as another heavy elbow drop lands in his ribcage. Thugg stares down disdainfully at Va’aiga as he takes his time standing again. Va’aiga is rocked with another pair of stomps, but Thugg chooses to let the Maori stand up of his own accord. Va’aiga staggers into the reach of the HVT again, and Thugg grasps for him, locking the Maori Badass in a vicious bearhug! Thugg squeezes the very life out of the Maori, setting him up for one of his finishing sequences.

 

Riley: Thugg channeling Va’aiga’s stablemate Charlie Matthews with this bear hug.

 

Comet: Well he’s been working on the ribs and back, and this move affects both. Plus I think Thugg can set other things up after it, things like…

 

…Thugg lifts Va’aiga up out of the bearhug and throws him down to the canvas with EXTREME impact. Va’aiga writhes a little as Thugg crosses his thumb slowly across his throat…

 

Comet: The Spinebuster and…

 

…and Thugg picks up Va’aiga by the arm and wrenches him up. Thugg uncorks and Va’aiga goes flying away towards the ropes. Thugg sets up for his press slam as Va’aiga rebounds towards him. Thugg turns and readies himself, when in a desperation move… VA’AIGA FLAILS OUT AN ARM AND CATCHES THUGG WITH A NASTY EVIL MEAN UNEXPECTED OUT OF NOWHERE ULTIMATE SUPER SAIYAN COUNTER LEVEL 5 LAAAAARIIIIIIIAAAAAAATOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

Riley: AND THE LARIAT! AND THE LARIAT! AND THE LARIAT!

 

Thugg drops to the mat from the impact of the biggest, meanest Lariat in the SWF. Va’aiga drops down himself through sheer exhaustion and Anthony Michael Hall gets the crowd chanting along with his double KO count.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

Comet: Thugg was going for the Last Stand and Va’aiga somehow summoned up the energy to counter with the Lariat!

 

TWO!

 

 

Comet: Which man will be first to their feet?

 

 

THREE!

 

 

Riley: I don’t know, Comet.

 

 

FOUR!

 

 

Riley: Maybe neither, I mean Va’aiga has taken a hellaciious beating recently, and Thugg… well Thugg just took the lariat.

 

 

FIVE!

 

 

 

 

SIX! And Thugg is up to one knee.

 

 

 

 

SEVEN!

 

 

 

 

EIGHT! And Thugg is standing, with Va’aiga up to one knee.

 

 

 

 

 

 

NINE! And Va’aiga stands up.

 

Comet: Both men on their feet and this match WILL continue.

 

Va’aiga grabs for Thugg as both men stand and head butts the Angry Black Man to stun him. Va’aiga slips round behind and grabs a strong back waistlock on his massive opponent. Va’aiga struggles and strains, wincing from the pain of his back as he goes to lift Thugg, but instead of a German Suplex, he drops Thugg to the mat amateur style. Va’aiga drops down, dropping an elbow into Thugg’s heart before locking up Thugg with a tight side headlock.

 

Comet: Va’aiga slowing the pace down, almost Flesher style.

 

Riley: Va’aiga is in the unusual position of facing someone both larger and stronger, but also slowly and maybe even less technically skilled. I’m not sure how the Maori will play this, but this interesting tactic could be to the Maori’s advantage.

 

Thugg’s head locked tight in Va’aiga’s arms, the crowd become restless and boo a little, before beginning to clap slowly, looking for the Thugg to break out of the hold. Va’aiga rolls round, taking Thugg onto his back and transfers to a rear chin lock, Va’aiga cranks back on the neck of the Thugg, arching the Washington resident’s back uncomfortably. Trying to get to his feet, the Thugg gets up to a four point stance, but Va’aiga grabs Thugg’s arm and sits back, setting up the HVT in the Camel Clutch!!!

 

Comet: The Camel Clutch. All the mystery of the east and all the pain as well.

 

Riley: Well not ALL the pain of religious strife and conflict dating back over three thousand years.

 

Comet: OK maybe not. But it hurts.

 

Locking his hands tightly underneath HVT’s chin, Va’aiga leans backwards and stretches out the Thugg, straining with the effort. Anthony Michael Hall asks Thugg if he wants to quit, but Thugg vigorously shakes his head. Va’aiga growls and drags back on the neck again, bending HVT’s spinal column in ways only experts in Yoga know how. The crowd builds a small “HVT!” chants, which after a few seconds catches fire and spreads round the arena.

 

Comet: The great citizens here tonight are really getting behind the HVT.

 

Riley: What do they know? HVT is trapped in this vicious Camel Clutch and it’s going to be all over soon.

 

HVT begins to shake in time with the clapping and stomping crowd, working himself free from the hold Va’aiga has. Va’aiga cranks again, trying to get the Thugg if not to tap out, then to suffer as much pain as possible. Thugg works his arms free as the “HVT!” chant becomes thunderous and with a roar, the Thugg stands, throwing Va’aiga clear of his back!

 

Comet: Thugg is free! HVT is back in this match again!

 

The Raging Thugg turns to the Maori and storms over to where Va’aiga is on the canvas. Thugg reaches down to pick up Va’aiga again, but the Maori has an unsubtle response planned, and with referee Hall’s vision obscured by the massive frame of the Thugg, he is in no position to call the vicious UPPERCUT TO THE NUTS! Thugg drops to his knees as Va’aiga slowly stands and the crowd lets out a collective “ooh” of sympathy.

 

Riley: What a counter by the Maori Badass!

 

Comet: A shot to the unmentionables?

 

Riley: It’s the most effective move in the book.

 

Taking his time to line up, Va’aiga paces round the kneeling Thugg, weighing up his options. Va’aiga lines up for his kick, checks the stadium conditions (mockingly, of course) and KICKS HVT SOLIDLY ON THE CHIN! Thugg falls down to the canvas and Va’aiga leaps onto him with a massive splash, hooking a leg to pin.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

TH.. and Thugg kicks out.

 

Riley: Wow that kick really took out Thugg.

 

Comet: And maybe one or two of Thugg’s teeth too.

 

Va’aiga picks Thugg up by hoisting him over his shoulder, setting up for a backdrop Suplex. Va’aiga leas back and Thugg offers no resistance. Va’aiga drops Thugg to the canvas and rolls away, quickly standing. Down on the mat Thugg looks groggy, and Va’aiga lifts the semi conscious black man off the mat and locks in a tight back waistlock.

 

Comet: He’s not going to German Suplex the THUGG is he?

 

Riley: It looks like he’s going to try!

 

Unlike earlier, where Thugg was straining against the hold, this time Va’aiga has no problem in lifting Thugg up and sending the 7’2 375lber over his head and down to the mat with a truly amazing RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX! Va’aiga goes across to cover quickly, diving on the Thugg and hooking a leg.

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THR.. and Thugg kicks out.

 

Va’aiga: TUTAE!

 

Comet: Another close count! This match has been filled with thrills and excitement.

 

Riley: You’re not gonna see any tope con hilos or Stardust Presses, but with two big bruisers like this you’re seeing one hell of an intense brawl.

 

Va’aiga stomps away angrily at Thugg, raining in shots to Thugg’s chest and side before hoisting him back up again by the braids! Thugg stands there, still a little daze and Va’aiga plants a MASSIVE Yakuza kick into his chest! Thugg staggers backwards and Va’aiga charges the ropes again and hits a SECOND Yakuza kick, leaving Thugg trapped on the ropes! Va’aiga walks over to the Thugg and picks him up, dropping him over the ropes with a flapjack style hotshot. Thugg bounces off and collapses to the mat.

 

Riley: Ouch. That look like it hurt.

 

Comet: The hotshot’s always a simple but effective move to use. Those steel cables inside the ring ropes are nasty things to land on.

 

Stomping away again to kill time and inflict that little extra damage, Va’aiga moves for position on the Thugg again. This time as the Maori lifts up his more massive opponent, he drives HVT’s head between his legs, locking the Thugg in a standing head scissors. Va’aiga grabs Thugg round the waist and jacks him up onto his shoulders, before bringing HVT down with a thunderous RELEASE POWERBOMB! Thugg bounces off the canvas as Va’aiga looks out into the crowd and shouts….

 

Va’aiga: C’MON!

 

Riley: Va’aiga is getting fired up here!

 

Comet: You can say that again.

 

Riley: Va’aiga is getting fired up here!

 

Va’aiga looks down at the Thugg and an evil smile crosses his heavily tattooed face. Va’aiga picks Thugg up and slings the big man up over his shoulder. Va’aiga looks ready to body slam the Thugg, but the Maori’s intentions are far more evil. Thugg lies there over the Maori’s shoulder as Va’aiga sits down, dropping Thugg down sideways in a vicious Southern Lights Bomb! Va’aiga drops and covers, breathing heavily himself from the intense effort of SLBing a 375lb man. Anthony Michael Hall drops to count...

 

Riley: SOUTHERN LIGHTS BOMB! THIS HAS TO BE IT!

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR… and HVT kicks out!!!

 

Comet: No freaking way!

 

Riley: I see it, but I don’t’ believe it! The Thugg took a HELLACIOUS Southern Lights Bomb and he still kicked out! I don’t know a man that size could withstand the force of gravity and the resulting head to mat collision!

 

Head in hands, Va’aiga just sits there cursing his luck, wondering what the HELL he’s going to have to do to beat the behemoth that is the HVT. Va’aiga slowly stands and growls again, adjusting his wrist tape at the forearm end, signaling that he wants to end the match with his favorite maneuver. Thugg gets to one knee, slowly regaining his bearings as the crowd noise builds with boos and even a small “VA-ING-UH SUCKS!” chant. Va’aiga readies himself and starts off against the ropes away from Thugg, building up momentum as he goes for the NEAR DECAPITATING, NEAR EVISCERATING, OFTEN LACERATING AND ALWAYS WORTH SPECTATING LAAARIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAATOOOOOOO… AND MISSES AS THUGG DUCKS!

 

Riley: THE LARIAT!

 

Comet: NO!

 

Va’aiga is out of control and heading for the ropes as Thugg shakes his head and finally gets some control over his situation. The Maori Badass comes flying back across the ring and Thugg brags hold looking for his bearhug slam! Va’aiga plants his feet and tries to drag Thugg round with the momentum into an orbital belly to belly but Thugg holds on and adds an extra orbit of his own, throwing the Maori down to the mat with the Suplex!!!

 

Comet: And the momentum in thi match swings again!

 

Riley: You can’t really say who’s going to win here tonight, it’s just been back and forth. A great main event all round.

 

Thugg stomps away AGAIN at the Maori, forcing Va’aiga to wriggle round on the mat, attempting to avoid the blows. Thugg tires of chasing the Maori with stomps to the floor and reaches down to lift Va’aiga up. Thugg slings the Maori Badass over his shoulder and slams Va’aiga back down to the mat WITH TREMENDOUS AUTHORITY. Thugg drops and covers, sending referee Hall scampering into position…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

THR… and Va’aiga kicks out.

 

Comet: Not many people in this federation have the power to get a long two count on Va’aiga off a mere body slam.

 

Riley: Thugg isn’t many people though, Comet.

 

Dropping down to his knees and reaching down to mat level, Thugg locks his arms behind Va’aiga’s neck and lifts him off the canvas in a full nelson, forcing Va’aiga to stand as Thugg stands himself. Thugg makes sure the full nelson is in tight and sits out, slamming Va’aiga tailbone first down to the canvas! The crowd calls out for the “HVT!” again as Thugg stands for a second time, dragging Va’aiga up with him again. Thugg sits out again, AGAIN slamming Va’aiga down into the mat below.

 

Comet: Thugg hits Va’aiga with two vicious Full Nelson Bombs there, and with that Full Nelson still locked in tight, there’s no sign of Thugg letting up.

 

Riley: The power it requires to hit a man the size of the Maori Badass with just one of these slams is incredible. HVT is going for three.

 

HVT stands slowly again, again dragging Va’aiga rudely to his feet and taking time to look around the arena, not for the fans that are backing him but just to show everyone that he’s still in full control as he lifts up the Maori Badass and releases him from the grasp of the full nelson, slamming Va’aiga down into the mat form some height!

 

Comet: FULL NELSON SLAM! That trifecta of full nelson moves has to have taken the wind out of the Maori. It might be time for the Thugg to set up something big.

 

Riley: The best time to finish anyone off is as soon as possible, Comet. Wrestlers aren’t paid by the second you know.

 

Standing above the Maori on the mat, Thugg slowly lifts his right arm and clutches it at the wrist with his left. The crowd goes wild as the signal is thrown for THE UNTAMED, Thugg’s vicious spinning chokeslam! Thugg leans down and grabs the Maori by the throat, lifting the 300 plus pounder off the mat as if he was picking up a slightly overladen bag of shopping. Thugg glares at Va’aiga as he prepares the move.

 

Comet: Untamed Chokeslam coming up. This move is goodnight to ANYONE in this federation.

 

Grasping Va’aiga’s throat tight, HVT lifts the Maori up off his feet, but Va’aiga flails a leg out and kicks Thugg SQUARELY IN THE BALLS!! Thugg drops back and loses his grip on the throat of the Maori Badass. Va’aiga lifts his arm up and wraps his hand round Thugg’s throat! Va’aiga drags Thugg by the neck into the centre of the ring and grabs a firm hold of Thugg’s throat as HVT splutters and coughs.

 

Va’aiga: LIKE HIS BROTHER!!!!

 

Riley: Va’aiga is looking to put away HVT with his own Untamed Chokeslam, just like he did to Bastion!

 

Va’aiga lifts Thugg up off the canvas by the throat and spins, dropping the Thugg down to the mat HARD and leaving the downed DC man clutching at his throat and jolting from the pain shooting through his back. Va’aiga drops and leans back across Thugg, his arm raised, counting with referee Hall as he slaps his hand to the mat.

 

 

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

THRE…NO! THUGG KICKS OUT!!!!!!

 

Comet: OH MY GOD! HVT KICKED OUT OF THE UNTAMED CHOKESLAM VA’AIGA GAVE HIM!

 

Riley: I don’t believe it. I see it, but I don’t’ believe it.

 

Thugg slowly raises from the ground, after kicking out of the AMAZING Untamed that Va’aiga had delivered to him. Thugg looks more than a little pissed off that Va’aiga had the audacity to attempt his own move on him. With his eyes burning with hatred, he turns to where he last saw the Maori moving to, only to be run over by a steam train coming the other way, a steam train driven by THE UNIQUE AND DEADLY POWER OF EVIL MEAN NASTY MAORI LAAAAAAARIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAATOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

 

Riley: THE LARIAT! THE LARIAT!

 

HVT drops to the mat at speed, and the Maori Badass drops down too, exhausted but not too tired to hook a leg of his massive opponent. Anthony Michael Hall drops to count as the crowd boos the Maori Badass…

 

ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

TWO!

 

 

 

 

 

THREE!!!!!!

 

 

Riley: AND VA’AIGA WINS!

 

Comet: Thugg had taken a pounding and a half during the match, and had kicked out of some of the mast dangerous moves the SWF has to offer, but that one last lariat was enough to finish the H-V-T off.

 

Va’aiga is walking out of the ring as Thugg turns and taps him on the shoulder. The Maori Badass turns back as Thugg extends a hand towards him, but Va’aiga blanks him and walks off again. Angered that his chance to sneak an Irish whip on the Maori has been missed (like you’d expect Thugg to do anything else right?), Thugg has to resort to more simple measure, just grabbing the tired Maori and whipping him into the ropes. As Va’aiga flies off, Thugg crosses his thumb across his throat, but Va’aiga baseball slides out of the ring and walks off up the ramp. On his way out Va’aiga points at the Thugg in the ring.

 

Comet: Thugg wanted a little afters on the Maori Badass, just as his brother did, but Va’aiga was having none of it. Maybe we’ll see these two athletes lock it up again in the future, but until next time this is Cyclone Comet for Bobby Riley saying goodnight

 

…and the show fades out with Thugg standing in the ring and Va’aiga on the ramp mouthing “NOT THIS TIME!” at him

[muzz 0]

What I wrote, just to prove I put the effort in until I had to come to the aid of my mother, and my sleep deprivation.

 

....

 

The crowd reaction is utterly deafening, as they immediately throw their collective support behind the Superior One. This pleases tom greatly, who gazes out amongst the fans, then turns his head back towards his opponent, shooting him a snide grin.

 

This doesn’t phase Blackwell one iota. In fact, the Australian strides across the ring, brimming with intent, and simply rears back…

 

*SLAP!*

 

Nailing Flesher across the chest with a sharp knife-edge chop! The crowd cringes at the painful blow delivered by the Sacred One, but Flesher remains in one spot, hardly wavered by the blow, and remaining toe-to-toe with his foe.

 

Not stopping to chat, Blackwell goes down low as he nails Flesher with a knee to the midsection. He then pulls Flesher close, almost face-to-face as he delivers a few more rising knee strikes. With Flesher off-guard, at least for the moment, Blackwell sends him into the strands with an Irish Whip.

 

Giving his opponent little time to counter, Blackwell snaps Flesher over with an ankle scissors, sending him rolling across the mat, but he recovers and soon regains his footing. Depriving Tom of any time to set himself, Sacred springs from the mat and plants two feet into Tom’s chest. Blackwell uses this to back flip and land back on two feet as Flesher stumbles into the ropes behind him. They propel him towards the center of the ring where Sacred is waiting, as the Australian reaches down and lifts up Flesher’s left leg, leaving him hoping on the other while he attempts to snap him over with a Dragon Screw.

 

Flesher, all too weary of being in this predicament, shoots forth, nailing Blackwell with a palm strike! And another! Blackwell is soon forced to let go as he reels from the swift blows, and leaves himself open for Tom, who traps him close, lifting him high into the air, completely vertical. Flesher then slowly falls, bringing Blackwell with him like a tree trunk, taking him down with a vertical Suplex!

 

Well aware no pins can be made, Flesher rolls through almost immediately, keeping a tight grip on Blackwell, pulling him into a front face lock. The crowd applauds politely, knowing that with only a few quick moves, Flesher has clearly established himself in this match. Tom makes this clear as he strikes Blackwell with a few rising knees to Sacred’s temple, repaying the favour from earlier.

 

Attempting to wear Sacred down further, Tom cinches the hold in tighter each second it’s applied. Blackwell refuses to be pulled down onto the mat though and heaves himself up, regaining his footing. Without warning, Blackwell takes Tom around the waist, throwing him over in a Northern Lights Suplex! Blackwell keeps a hold of tom in a bridge before rolling through, lifting Tom up in much the same fashion, hitting another Northern Lights!

 

Trying his luck, Blackwell rolls through once more, ready to plant Tom once again, but Flesher is no fool and counters swiftly, gripping his arm around Blackwell’s neck and kicking him in the breadbasket, before driving his head into the mat with a DDT! The Superior One doesn’t stop there though, as he keeps hold of his foe, trapping him by hooking him in a body scissors as he wrenches back on his neck!

 

Blackwell’s momentum is stop cold once again as Flesher keeps him entangled in his web, wrenching back with a neck lock while keeping him well in place with his legs hooked around his waist. Blackwell knows he has to try something desperate, and suddenly wrenches himself free as he pulls Tom’s legs apart with his hands. As he gains free movement of his body back, Blackwell rolls over the top of Flesher, escaping the Superior One’s clutches as he does.

 

Blackwell spins around quite suddenly, trying to catch Tom off-guard, but as he tries to slap on a basic chin lock, Tom reaches behind him, yanking him over by the neck and onto his back with a snapmare.

As Flesher climbs to his feet, ready to lock Sacred into a reverse face lock, Blackwell tries to counter in desperation, rolling onto his back, hooking his legs around Flesher’s neck. He thin spins around, throwing Flesher away with a headscissors takeover!

 

Both men immediately get to their feet, keeping their eyes locked onto each other persistently. Blackwell suddenly charges, but Flesher ducks his flying forearm shot. Sacred attempts another pass, but again, Flesher counters in time by taking him down with a drop toe hold, and immediately spinning around, hooking Blackwell in a two on one arm control position. Flesher then shifts his weight and lowers his head, taking Blackwell’s arm with him. He keeps a tight hold of this arm while he moves around Blackwell, using his opposite arm to wrap around Sacred’s waist. In a split second, Flesher lifts Blackwell off of the mat from behind, and takes him down face first in a Russian Drag.

 

Letting go of the arm, Flesher wraps both arms around Sacred’s waist and lifts him onto his feet, and as soon as he does this, Flesher lifts Blackwell up, and over, slamming him down on the back of his neck, nailing him with a German Suplex!

 

The Superior One keeps his hold, as he has done all match, not daring to let Blackwell slip away. He swiftly twirls back onto his feet, ready for another possible German Suplex, but Blackwell again counters out of desperation, not prepared to be taken down again. Sacred charges forth, with Flesher still holding firm around his waist as he throws himself onto the top rope, hoping flesher loses his grip and somersaults backward. He has no such luck however, as Flesher still keeps hold as he rolls onto his back and through again, lifting Blackwell into the exact same position he had him in not five seconds ago.

 

Flesher soon takes Blackwell down in an amateur style take over, thrown onto his stomach. As Flesher leans down, Blackwell lifts him over and takes him down with a fireman’s carry. Sacred doesn’t dare try anything else on the mat, and soon gets back to his feet. Flesher does so too, but Sacred catches him with a picture perfect Dropkick to the jaw!

 

Knowing speed and swiftness is the key, Blackwell quickly makes his way over to the turnbuckles, attempting to leap onto he top rope in a single bound, but he loses his balance and takes a crucial second to correct himself. As he does so, Flesher pounces on the opportunity, running over to the corner, onto the second rope, then the top, grabbing Sacred around the neck and waist and throwing him off the top!

 

The crowd pops loudly for Tom’s sudden burst, which has him lead one point to zero on the scoreboard in the corner. He has little time to celebrate his small victory as Blackwell instantly rolls back onto his feet, although still quite dazed. Flesher takes advantage as he takes Blackwell by the hand and sends him into the ropes with an Irish Whip. As Sacred returns, Flesher combines his movements as he leans back and takes Blackwell around the midsection, throwing him over his head in one amazing move!

 

The crowd is on their feet and joyfully celebrating as Sacred lies on the mat, his brains rattled after being thrown around as much as he has been. Flesher continues this tradition as he lifts Blackwell back to his feet, and reaches underneath the boy from Oz and lifts him up, sitting him down upon the perch of the top turnbuckle. The crowd’s cheers rise even further as Flesher climbs up with his foe, soon throwing his arm over his shoulder and taken a firm grip of Blackwell’s belt.

 

With his opponent trapped, Flesher climbs the final rung as both men are now perched precariously on the top turnbuckle. The Superior One lifts Blackwell into the air, as he falls backwards at the same time, and both men come crashing down from the heavens!

 

The score of ‘2 – 0’ appears in the corner as the crowd goes insane, chanting in stereo, “FLE – SHER! FLE – SHER! FLE – SHER!” Bu maybe they’re chanting too soon as the best is yet to come, as Flesher climbs up towards the heaven’s alone, perching himself on the top turnbuckle as he looks down at the fallen Australian.

 

A appreciative, or maybe cocky smile, appears on Flesher’s face as he looks out at the fans, then down at his opponent. Whatever the case may be, it spells doom for Blackwell, as Flesher leaps high into the air, his arms outstretched, slowly coming down…

 

*BAM!*

 

… And nailing Blackwell with a Flying Headbutt!

 

The chants of Flesher soon give way to, “THREE TO ZERO! THREE TO ZERO!” as the crowd explodes after the tremendous impact from the Headbutt. Flesher has all the momentum, but needs time to recover after landing hard.

 

The Superior One climbs back to his feet, as confident in his own abilities as ever as he slowly lifts his ragged opponent to his feet. Flesher connects with a flurry of palm strikes, before sending Sacred into the turnbuckles. Flesher, building up a burst of speed, follows the Australian in…

 

… But eats nothing but boot! Blackwell counters at the last second, but can’t capitalize. Flesher tries again, but Blackwell pivots to the side and connects with an elbow to the side of the head. Tom is stunned for a split second, just long enough for Sacred to charge forward and plant his front foot into his chest, pushing off with a moonsault! Blackwell flies through the air, and expertly lands on the top rope, doing everything in his power to steady himself!

 

Flesher remains stunned, more from the sudden outburst from the Aussie more than anything, as Sacred jumps forward, somersaulting through the air, and cannonballing into The Superior One’s chest!

 

*WHAM!*

 

The fans let out a disappointed sigh as the score now reads, “3 –1”. Both men lie flat on their backs, Sacred indeed buying himself some time here in which to recover. Despite taking a hard hit that drove the air out of his lungs, Flesher resiliently climbs back to his feet, with help from the turnbuckles.

 

Blackwell soon follows suit, regaining his footing as he looks back over at his Superior opponent, a spiteful look in his eyes. Blackwell charges blindly, but Flesher steadies himself in time and avoids impact by lifting the Australian into the air…

 

… And onto the top rope! Quickly realizing his mistake, Flesher turns around just in time to see Blackwell vault off, spinning with one full rotation, but Flesher avoids impact by moving forward…

 

… But Blackwell lands back on his feet! But, just as he swings around to meet Flesher once again…

 

… Flesher comes a runnin’ at him, attempting a patented Yazuka Kick! The Aussie ducks, however, and Flesher is blindsided as Blackwell thumps him in the back with a forearm, followed by another. Blackwell slinks his arms around Flesher’s waistline, but as he attempts a German Suplex, Flesher blocks easily, simply locking his ankle around Blackwell’s to keep himself firmly in place.

 

With a standing switch, Flesher turns the tables, but Blackwell sprints forward and desperately clings onto the top rope, and this time, Flesher loses his grip and rolls across the mat! The superior is determined to put out Blackwell’s fire, and charges, but Blackwell counters, lifting him into the air and dropping him across his knee with an Atomic Drop!

 

Sacred suddenly leaps onto flesher’s shoulders, attempting to take him over with a Hurricanrana, but Flesher takes hold of him and sprints towards the turnbuckles, throwing him onto the top! The crowd pops as Flesher attempts to climb up with his perched foe, but Blackwell fights back…

 

CRACK!

 

“WHOO!”

 

… Rifling off a knife-edge chop!

 

CRACK!

 

“WHOO!”

 

And another! But Flesher remains on the top rope, so Blackwell fires off one more chop, cracking Flesher across the throat! The Superior One suddenly loses his grip and lands back on the canvas, his hands gripping at his throat as he struggles for air.

 

Standing tall on the top rope, Sacred looks down at Flesher who stumbles about, gasping. Blackwell dives off from the top, spearing Flesher right in the stomach with a Kamikaze Spear!

 

Again, the fans sigh, not wanting to believe that Blackwell has fought his way back into this match. The Australian cracks a snide grin as he brings Flesher back to his feet. Blackwell fires off another couple of chops that cause the fans to cry out after each blow. With a cocky smile stolen straight from Flesher, Blackwell points to the top rope as the fans boo the hell out of him!

 

The Australian heads up top slowly, making sure he makes no mistakes. What he doesn’t count on, however, is Tom Flesher, sprinting forth from the center of the squared circle, and nailing him with a Shotei! Blackwell is stunned, and even more so as Flesher climbs up top with him, leaving the Australian sitting on the top, as he stands in front of him, gazing out at the sea of fans…

 

With a quick hop, Flesher hooks his legs around Blackwell’s neck and pulls him down from the top rope, taking him down with a Frankensteiner!

 

The crowd rise up as one as Flesher recovers from maybe his most highflying move of the past year. The fans once again start chanting his name, as they never thought they would see Tom Flesher fly off the top rope like that.

 

The score is now four to two, and Blackwell is in deep trouble as he tries to crawl away from Flesher, but is soon dragged back onto his feet by his hair.